


Sweeter Thy Voice

by HannahJane



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Brief Language, Father/Daughter Relationship, Gen, Mild Angst, Missing scene from Pilot, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahJane/pseuds/HannahJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean Renard is a banished prince, but he’s not the only one who has fallen from grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweeter Thy Voice

**Author's Note:**

> (Written when the show first premiered, so totally not canon compliant).
> 
> The title of the story is from a Tennyson poem called ‘The Princess” which I also do not own.

A Grimm. In his territory. A vengeful, sociopathic killer loose in the territory that he had fought and bled for, that he himself had killed for. His territory. _His_.

 

Sean Renard’s hands tightened sharply on the steering wheel as tension thrummed through his body, stiffening his spine and setting his teeth on edge. A goddamn Grimm. He almost pounded the wheel in frustration, but stopped short, fist clenched above the plastic. He didn’t want to wake up his passenger, not when the need for sleep was so obvious. Sean forced his fist to open, forced himself to focus on the road before him, even though at midnight, the streets of Portland were mostly empty.

 

What would possess someone as cunning and ruthless as Marie Kessler to make a suicidal charge into claimed territory, _imperially claimed_ territory? Sean wasn’t naïve enough to believe that the woman didn’t know about him, his family and his past. She much have known how fiercely possessive he was of his region, his zero-tolerance policy for unnecessary violence and bloodshed and wherever a Grimm was found, so was a trail of broken bodies. She must have known he wouldn’t let her live long after her arrival was discovered. So what was her endgame? He doubted it was a trip to the Oregon Zoo and dinner in the Pearl.

 

Sean hadn’t believed Adalind when she had called to give him the news, brushing off the report as a rumor. After all what could be more ridiculous than a Grimm entering his city, unannounced and uninvited? Not that asking nicely would have granted her access. Nevertheless, he should have taken the call more seriously and now the all too real police report in his briefcase about the Reaper attack on Kessler taunted him from the backseat, a reminder that he was getting complacent in his little corner of the world. If he wasn’t careful, it was going get him killed one day. Sean eased to a stop at a red light and let his shoulders slump, exhaustion starting to creep up through the tension. The body in the passenger seat stirred, muttered something incomprehensible and settled back into slumber. The light changed to green and he accelerated smoothly through the empty intersection.

 

A Grimm; the monster that other monsters feared.

 

Sean sighed raggedly, no longer capable of being irate. It was late, he was tired, and he would have to get up in five hours and go back to work. The thought of work brought up the second half to his Grimm problem: Detective Nick Burkhardt, the security threat who couldn’t simply be eliminated like Kessler could. A security threat who Sean had to interact with on a daily basis, a threat that Sean had to _trust_ in order to be able to continue his duties as a police captain. Wasn’t that just deliciously ironic?

 

Nick Burkhardt was a Grimm, Sean snorted quietly, amused for a split second. Of course he was, with a case-solving rate 5% higher than anyone else in Portland PD. Really, Sean should have seen it coming. Portland was his territory and he knew everything that happened in his territory, every quarrel and feud, every bit of bad blood. He knew everything.

 

Except Burkhardt’s apparent magical heritage it seemed.

 

Thinking about it just uncovered more questions than it answered. Sean shook his head to clear it, lowering his window a little, feeling the cold night air wash over him. He didn't need to be thinking about why he hadn’t been able to see the Grimm traits in the first place, why Nick had slipped under his radar. That was something to ponder at another time, a time when he wasn’t driving or, well never. Never worked too.

 

Turning onto his street, Sean started as his phone began to ring in the cup-holder between the seats, vibrating against the molded plastic. He scooped it up quickly and answered it one-handed even as he pulled into the underground garage of his apartment building.  He didn’t really need to bother to be stealthy. His passenger didn’t even twitch.

 

“Renard.” He tried not to bark, but Serena knew better than to call him that late and expect him to be civil. Royal upbringing aside, even the most diplomatic person was not pleasant in the middle of the night. Pinning the phone between his ear and shoulder, Sean punched the parking garage door opener on the visor above his head, the gate slowly humming open.

 

“Stott would like to know when he might retrieve his son’s body. I checked with the coroner’s office discreetly. Hulda’s body will be released by tomorrow.” Serena said, the clicking of keyboard keys audible in the background. She was probably still at the firm; _hexenbeist_ were workaholics so her need for sleep was far less pressing than his. She would work all through the night, change into one of the many business suits she kept in her office and then grab an hour-long nap at some point during the day. Just the thought of a life like that made Sean even more tired.

 

“If Stott knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay away from my territory right now. Tell him that. If he comes anywhere near Portland, I’ll gut him with his own scythe.” Sean spit out, anger struggling up through his fatigue, heating him from the inside out. There was a faint pause on the other end of the line and then Serena spoke again.

 

“Is that a direct quote or do I have your permission to tell him something that doesn’t sound like dialogue from a bad gangster film?” Sean rolled his eyes as he pulled into the garage and directly into his spot near the elevator.

 

“Just tell him ‘no’, Serena. Is that all?” Just like that the flare of anger was extinguished and Sean leaned his head back against the headrest, using his hands to rub away the dull ache in his temples.

 

“Yes; shall I call if…” she trailed off in a distinctly un-Serena like manner and in the background, the clicking keys went silent. Sean filled in the rest of the sentence.

 

“We will discuss the issue of the Grimm tomorrow, Serena. The matter is closed for now.” He ordered, opening his eyes and staring through the windshield at the blank cement wall in front of him.

 

“Of course, sire.” Never one for small talk or goodbyes, Serena hung up, a tiny click in his ear. Sean tucked his phone into the pocket of his jacket. In a little while, he would have to tackle the issue of the Grimm and Burkhardt and a missing little girl in a red sweatshirt, but for now, he was home, a brief respite from the storm. Shaking himself out of his melancholy, Sean turned his attention to the form next to him, gently shaking the shoulder closest to him.

 

“Lottie, wake up, _belle_. We’re home.” Scrunching her nose, his passenger half-opened her eyes, blinking sleepily up at him through the curtain of dark brown curls that had fallen in her face.

 

_Yes_ , Sean thought as he reached out and brushed the unruly locks out of his daughter’s face, _tomorrow._

 

But for now, he was home.


End file.
